


Pressure from Beyond

by WiggityFresh



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: (Attempts at least), Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, As much as I love the Moro arc it doesn't exist here shh, EVERYONE is here - Freeform, Humor, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiggityFresh/pseuds/WiggityFresh
Summary: Videl sat up, meeting his gaze with a worried expression. "What's wrong?" The question hung in the air for a moment, heavier than it should have been, before he let out a slow exhale."I'm going out for a bit." Was the reply. Simple, yes, but it didn't carry force behind it. Despite the fact it seemed like she woke up in the middle of someone's funeral, he was talking like he was about to go out and get some groceries. "If I'm wrong, I'll be back soon." He added, giving her a soft smile, and before she could even blink, he was changing out of night clothes and into the familiar orange gi."Does that mean there's a fight? I don't feel a thing, Gohan." She yawned, as he struggled to pull the top on, awkwardly leaning against the closet. She literally had a man made of pure muscle, smarts, and compassion, and he was still an absolute wreck in the mornings. The only thing that seemed constant about him was his hair, that stayed up in the same spikes no matter if it was noon or midnight."That's the problem, Videl." Came the muffled, still calm reply.





	1. Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially a rewrite of a fic of the same name. I did some tweaking to the first three chapters, and wanted to post them up!
> 
> The whole situation was that I basically put this fic on hold because I wanted to have a plot sussed out first- especially with the Broly movie coming out around the same time, and now I have an actual plot outline for this!

It was early in the morning. Far too early for anyone to be busy, and especially to early for the man next to her to be getting up. He usually slept like a brick unless Pan ended up crying, which was incredible. After all, if she had his enhanced senses, she'd barely be able to get a lick of sleep in. Luckily, Son Gohan was trained for Kami knows how long, and knew how to push the brakes and handle every muscle in his body like clockwork. A very, very useful skillset for him to have.

But, this morning was different. something felt wrong. A disturbance in something, she assumed, based on the fact that the first thing she saw when her eyes fluttered open was her husband sitting on the edge of the bed, brow furrowed in an expression that meant intense thought, or extreme concern. The window was open, as the crisp air began to leak in. He was almost perfectly still, his shoulders slowly rising and falling with each slight breath. She shifted more, sitting up, resulting in his dark eyes flickering back to her at an incredible speed, like an animal searching for prey. Videl had to admit, it took a long while to get used to comfortably staring him in the eyes. Ever since they first met, they had felt… wrong. Videl had known plenty of people with dark eyes, but Gohan’s were practically soulless. Like black holes that followed her every movement, judged every ounce of her being. The only thing that disarmed the deepness of his eyes was his disarming smile. Hence why she also preferred him with glasses. It diluted the unintentional tension his eyes put off. Made him seem more like... himself. Or, at least the ‘himself’ that he wanted to present to others. She hadn’t asked Gohan much about his childhood. Every time she had, he had always tried to brush it off, but he wasn’t without his own share of restless nights. Early on in their relationship, she had practically been shoved off the bed many times just based off how much he would toss and turn in his sleep, haunted by some sort of persistent nightmare. But, being the pure man she knew he was, once she made her complaints known, he practically forced himself to become stiff as a board at night. He was more worried about her comfort than his own, which wasn’t fair. She wanted to be able to protect him for a change, but they both knew that was a pipe dream. 

Videl sat up, meeting his gaze with a worried expression. "What's wrong?" The question hung in the air for a moment, heavier than it should have been, before he let out a slow exhale. 

"I'm going out for a bit." Was the reply. Simple, yes, but it didn't carry force behind it. Despite the fact it seemed like she woke up in the middle of someone's funeral, he was talking like he was about to go out and get some groceries. "If I'm wrong, I'll be back soon." He added, giving her a soft smile, and before she could even blink, he was changing out of night clothes and into the familiar orange gi. 

"Does that mean there's a fight? I don't feel a thing, Gohan." She yawned, as he struggled to pull the top on, awkwardly leaning against the closet. She literally had a man made of pure muscle, smarts, and compassion, and he was still an absolute wreck in the mornings. The only thing that seemed constant about him was his hair, that stayed up in the same spikes no matter if it was noon or midnight. 

"That's the problem, Videl." Came the muffled, still calm reply. "Usually I can feel some sort of... pressure, when it comes to my Dad. Like, I can guess where he is, but I can't really feel his energy anymore. Not when he's in his God form, at least." He grunted, and there was another flicker, before he was on the edge of the bed, tugging on his left boot. She braced herself for one of his lectures. Son Gohan-- difficult to get talking, but once he got started, he didn't feel like stopping. "Maybe it's because I reawakened my 'potential' and started training again, maybe it's because it was from a godly ritual in the first place? I'm not sure. Anyways-- uh, can you help me with my belt, honey?" 

She blinked, realizing that he had managed to tie it on backwards, clearly more preoccupied than his thought process than his clothing. She sighed, shaking her head as she pushed herself out of bed, walked over, and started to untie the belt. A man who had the ability to stand up to the gods, and he could barely function without coffee in the mornings. "Why do you knot this thing so tightly?" She mumbled, as her husband continued to drabble on. 

"What was I saying? Oh, yeah, so basically I don't feel him. Anywhere. I know Beerus' planet is far, but it's like a blip. On the very edge of my radar, my metaphorical radar. I don't actually have a radar, Videl." He glanced down at her, hoping that his wordplay wasn’t lost on her. She looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly. 

"I know, Gohan." She grunted, getting the damn knot loose. All the strength in the world, and he still tied things like he was in grade school. Haphazardly and 'good enough'. With how strict Chi-Chi was, it was actually kind of funny. 

"O-oh, yeah, sorry." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head, before clearing his throat. "And he can't be on the Planet of the Kai's, because that's even closer. Like, if Lord Beerus was the moon, then that would be like, West City. So basically, that's a problem. A big one. So I'm going over to the Briefs." 

Videl blinked, retying his belt as she reassessed what he just said. "...Why the Briefs, exactly? And should you really be that worried about your father? I mean, I can’t say that I understand your whole ‘Saiyan-ness’, but he’s incredibly powerful." It was cute how much Gohan cared about his family. As overbearing as he could be sometimes. Whatever hovering that Chi-Chi employed when he was young, he certainly picked up. He was a worrier. Once they were married, it had taken Videl several long conversations to remind Gohan that she wasn’t going to end up killed if she went places on her own. He had good reason, of course. Each new thing that came to Earth was more threatening than the last, and based on the attitude of him and his friends, they weren’t totally unfamiliar with the concepts of death- although it wasn’t something any of them seemed to want to repeat. Still, part of her was tired of being treated as some precious porcelain doll that needed to be handled with care- which had especially become his attitude towards her once Pan was born. He jumped between overly doting husband, hero of justice, incredible role model, and scholar was too often. He needed a break. 

Gohan shrugged. "Well, Bulma is the only one who can get ahold of Whis easily. They're basically best friends. You know, going to get their nails painted and go to expensive restaurants. Because we all know that Vegeta isn't taking her." He smiled in thanks, adjusting his newly tied gi belt, before walking to the door, making a quick U-Turn to grab his watch, and then jogging to the large open window. “I know Dad is strong. That much is obvious, but… I can’t just sit back and wait. If I can’t sense Dad, then I have to assume the worst, and I need to make sure I’m wrong.” The window gave off a very nice view of Satan City, which was good for dinner parties and superhero-ing. Gohan swung it open, before the familiar stir of energy began to whip around the room. He turned around, giving her a wide grin as part of his hair dropped into a spiked bang, flitting about in the artificial wind, causing her to roll her eyes with a small groan. 

He was a walking trope and barely even realized it. 

"I'll try to be back for Pan's interview! We're getting her into that school! My mom always prepared me early, I don't see why she should be any different, you know?" He turned around, before his expression grew serious, and there was a thunderous crash as he shot out the window, full force. The blinds smacked against the wall, her hair flew back wildly, and the soft sound of wailing came from their daughters room. Videl cringed, turning to take care of the baby as a blur of orange shot back in and stumbled into the babies room with a hushed echo of 'sorry, sorry, sorry'. This ordeal went on for five minutes, before the Demi-Saiyan emerged again gently tip-toeing back to the living room cradling the swaddled, calmed infant over to Videl and handed her over, scooted over to the window, and gently rose his power giving her an apologetic shrug. 

"Ehehe... guess I got a bit excited. Tell little Pan that Daddy is going to be back soon. Well, I'm off!" He waved, before slowly floating out the window. 

"Wait, Gohan. It's like, four in the morning. Are you sure she'll be fine with this?" Videl whispered, giving him a dubious expression and gently rocking the sleeping Pan. 

"Bulma won't mind, I'm sure of it!" He said, brightly, using his insane speed to dart over next to her, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before vanishing into the night sky with a flash. She quietly walked over to the window, cradling Pan. She hoped he’d be safe. It was silly to be worried, especially since they always managed to pull out a victory in the end. 

“...Don’t do anything stupid, Gohan.” 

====== 

Bulma Briefs was a woman of many talents. She was one of the most renowned scientists of the known world, a mother of two, managed to tame a wild animal of a man, innovated the best way to find and summon a mystical dragon, invented time travel and basically had connections with literal gods. 

So was it too much to ask for a little bit of beauty sleep? 

She had put Bra down two hours ago. She was just as rowdy as her father, and had a knack of crying just as much as well. She had a press meeting in the morning concerning the various explosions that would occur near her house. They were mainly from Vegeta, and whatever friend or bot he decided to spar with, but you couldn't exactly tell the general public that your husband could shoot lasers from his hands and turn cities to ash with a flick of a finger. That'd cause panic, or whatever. So, she needed to prepare a decent enough lie for that, and then lie professionally enough to some business people who wanted a 'partnership' with Capsule Corp, and then finish the new project that they had been hyping up for months. 'Something-something-Capsule for pets'! It was a terrible idea, so she'd been spending extra time to make sure that it wasn't a total disaster. 

Kami, she could not wait until Trunks was old enough to take over the business. 

So, long story short, she was tired. And while she had started to dip into sleep, arms idly reaching for the man that- while he usually found his way into her bed- had decided to spend the night in the gravity chamber, she heard a tapping on the window. 'It must be a bird', she thought, 'Because if it was a person, then I'd murder them on the spot'. She covered her ears, groaning into her pillow. This pillow was expensive. She wanted to enjoy it, dammit. 

The tapping grew louder. "Psst, Bulma!" She couldn't tell who, exactly. Instinct told her Goku. Actually taking another second to listen brought her to the conclusion that it was Gohan (they sounded so similar, really), who had decided to ruin her night- or morning, at this point. Her eyes slowly open, before rolling over to face the window with a half-lidded stare. 

Now, she adored Gohan. From the second she met him in his tiny Dragon Ball hat, and cute little Qipao, she had basically adopted him as her son and nephew. He was smart, extremely polite, and had one of the biggest hearts that could possibly reside in a living being. She might have been able to go far enough to say that he was a better Goku, but weren't most children just better versions of their parents? Trunks would probably grow up to be a better version of Vegeta, Bra would be a better version of her, and Marron- well, it was hard to tell which parent she'd end up surpassing. However, at this very moment, she just had the most burning aggression towards the young man that she cared about so dearly. 

He smiled sheepishly, motioning for her to open the window. She smiled back, shaking her head no. 

It was _cold_ out. 

He sighed, before starting to talk anyways. Despite how similar he sounded to his father, he spoke much more eloquently. Like someone who actually read a book every once in a while. Although eloquence didn’t mean much when his voice was muffled from behind a window. "I'm so sorry about this, but I need you to get Whis for me." He bowed, hitting his helmet against the window with a cartoon-ish 'bonk'. He continued, as if trying to just ignore the fact that happened. She quirked an eyebrow. If spending time with Whis meant that she was going to get bothered every time they needed to call him, she definitely needed to stop spending more time with Whis. Or stop stocking up her fridge. Or both. 

"Dad is missing, and if there's one person who can find him quick, it's Whis." He folded his arms, his expression growing worried as he continued. "Dad's too strong to just vanish. Someone has to sense him. He's basically just a- a beacon? A beacon for the planet." 

That sure was reassuring. Bulma went through all the things that could go wrong with having Goku essentially be a giant 'Kick me' sign on the surface of the earth. Her lips pursed. Goku was- is- basically a younger brother to her. So she was a bit worried about him just vanishing. However, he was also a literal god, so she couldn't be too worried. Still, she could practically feel Gohan's puppy-dog eyes drilling into her from behind his visor, and she sighed, pulling herself out of bed. Gohan immediately covered his eyes with an arm. 

"Y-you're only in your underwear, Bulma..." He mumbled, as if she didn’t know. 

"I'm aware." She replied, popping open the window and letting him climb in- blind, mind you. Moments like this reminded her why she adored him. It didn’t matter how old he was. He was still an endearing, hopeless mess of a Saiyan. After a little bit of fumbling, and the fact that she didn't care what she was wearing because it was her house, damn it, and he was the one that bothered her when she was half-nude, she started to guide the sightless demi-Saiyan throughout the house, before shoving him into a kitchen. "First fridge. There's a shelf entirely containing things Whis hasn't had yet. Use that. You can help yourself to anything in the second fridge. I'm going back to bed. Tell your father that I said 'Hello' when you find him." She droned, leaving him alone with way too much food, and his instructions. 

He wandered around the dark kitchen, before reaching several abnormally large fridges. The one on the far left had a little halo on it. "That must be the one." Gohan mumbled, walking towards it, before searching frantically for a handle that didn't seem to exist on it. He tapped it several times, before it lit up where his finger struck it. "Analyzing fingerprint. User found: Son Gohan. Designation: The Good One. Access granted." He smiled a bit, chuckling. "Aw, Bulma..." The fridge opened up, leaving him with a plethora of... really fancy food. He reached in, grabbing some sort... cake? What was this called? Tirama-something or other. Either way, it'd probably do. He stared at it, before almost jumping as the fridge spoke again. 

_"Alpha Refrigerator Opened. Would you like to play the automated calling message?"_ Gohan blinked, before nodding. There was a beat. "O-oh. Yes, please." There was another pause, before the automated message began to play. Much more excited than the incredibly tired voice he had heard mere minutes ago. It was kind of funny, honestly. 

_"Hey, Whis! It's me, Bulma! I got something real nice for you, so just come down when you get this and it's all yours! Love you! Muah!"_

He stood for a second, before heading open to the second fridge, opening it up. If he was going to be stuck here waiting for Whis, he might as well get an early morning snack. Who would know when he'd be able to get breakfast, after all. 

====== 

“Trunks, this is kind of stupid…” 

“Shush, Goten! We’re just borrowing the Dragon Radar, and wishing that the Gravity Room is repaired so she and Dad don’t yell at me.” 

Son Goten and Trunks Briefs. Two of the strongest children on Planet Earth, and with that great power came a great deal of irresponsibility. Trunks had finally started to hit a long awaited growth spurt, which had come with mixed reception. His grandmother had lamented about his cheeks not being as squishable, and his grandfather had apparently been taking notes about his growth for the longest time, noting how odd it was for a fourteen-year old boy to look like an eight-year old for so long. His father had mumbled something about the future and swords, Bulla was extremely confused (but that was just how babies were), and his mother just congratulated him and took him shopping for some larger clothes. She had also decided this was a good time for him to be enrolled in public schooling. Which… was interesting in its own right. He had been homeschooled for so long, and actually having to go to school with other people was wild. 

Goten, on the other hand, had gotten a bit taller, but still remained extremely baby-faced. He had complained to his mother about it, saying how he was going to be bullied once he attended a real school. Chi-Chi didn’t have much to say, outside of the fact that was just how his father’s genes were. Which wasn’t far from the truth. His father and older brother were getting to the point where they looked about the same age, despite a twenty year age gap. 

Still, despite how much they grew from a physical standpoint, they were still children. Which is why they had chosen to practice target practice will filled soda cans in the Gravity Room, and then subsequently got soda all over the incredibly expensive equipment. 

They tiptoed through the dark, winding maze of hallways and buildings that was Capsule Corporation. The Dragon Radar had been moved around recently, considering it wasn’t in the usual spots. Still, the two of them would be fine as long as they weren’t caught by anyone, and consider it was actually four in the morning, they didn’t have much to worry about. Of course, that was the plan until they saw Bulma groggily exit from the kitchen. Goten tapped Trunks shoulder, whispering. “Hey! Maybe your Mom left it in there! Also, I’m kind of hungry…” 

“Can you stop thinking about food for ten seconds?” Trunks hissed back, waiting until his mother stumbled her way back to her bedroom, before taking a deep breath. “But, you might be right. We might as well check. Quietly now…” They crept forwards, before tucking and rolling into the kitchen, fumbling for a bit until they were illuminated by the dim light of one of the refrigerators opening up, and Goten’s older brother starting to root around, stuffing his face. 

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks stared at each other for several long seconds. Gohan finally swallowed whatever he was eating, and chuckled nervously. “Wow, Trunks! You’ve gotten taller.” 

Trunks didn’t waste time, folding his arms with a huff. “What are you doing in our house at like, four A.M?” 

“Waiting for Whis.” Was the simple reply, as Gohan fished an entire ham out of the fridge. “Why are you awake at four in the morning?” Gohan retorted, slowly closing the refrigerator door. Trunk’s face went red, as he quickly looked over to Goten to help him out. Of course, that would be the case if Goten was still around. The younger boy seemed to vanish without a trace, leaving Trunks alone and very confused. 

“Goten! Get back here! Don’t just ditch me!” He yelled, looking around, before finally spotting the younger Son sibling underneath a table, stealthily making his way to one of the large refrigerators. It was like an animal stalking prey. In the sense that it was extremely weird. Trunks groaned, shaking his head. God, he had to do everything himself, didn't he? 

Gohan blinked, before closing his eyes for a split second, and instantly looking to where Goten was crawling. “Huh? What, are you two having a sleepover? I mean, I guess that makes sense. I never had any sleepovers, but that was because I didn’t have any fr-” 

“No!” Trunks yelled. “Sleepovers are for little kids! And Goten and I aren’t little kids anymore, obviously!” 

“...I was that tall when I was eleven.” Gohan said, with an inflection in his voice that Trunks could only assume was smugness. Which was weird, since Gohan was never smug about anything ever. Trunks grit his teeth, stomping his foot. 

“Shut up! 

“What. Is. All. This. Racket!” A voice bellowed from one of the other entrances to the kitchen, which Trunks was starting to notice an abundance of. Leave it to Mom to make the kitchen accessible to a house full of Saiyans. Speaking of, one Saiyan stood incredibly irritated in the doorway. Dark, animalistic eyes darted between all three half-Saiyans, as Vegeta ground his teeth, stomping inside. “Are you all mad? You’ll wake up Bulla at this hour! And you! Older Kakarot brat! Get out of my fridge!” The next series of events seemed to happen in quick succession, as the angered prince aimed a blast towards Gohan’s head, and watched it zip forwards, before it was stopped by something- someone appearing right in front of the fridge. The tall form of Whis stumbled as he was smacked in the face with an energy blast, causing everyone in the room to practically freeze. 

The blue-skinned angel rubbed his cheek, frowning. “Talk about an uncivilized welcome. I was in the middle of putting Lord Beerus to bed, you know." He straighted up, fixing his towering hair with a huff, before carefully taking out one of the many cakes from the large fridge, and starting to indulge. "Now, I don’t have a lot of time, so what is it that you need?”


	2. Space Rocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious group of space farers arrive on a desolate planet, and leave with an interesting prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different!

The planet was practically abandoned. Just a blank slate of dust and rocks, outside of a small cottage resting in the middle of a small crater. The door to the cottage swung open, as a tall, malnourished Namekian hobbled out. Dressed in various robes and fabrics of yellow, orange, and purple, his left eye a hollow socket. The namekian stared up into the sky, as a ship slowly began to descend, falling down in front of the cottage with an astounding crash. The doors to the ship opened, as a pathway unfurled, tumbling down in front of the namekian’s feet. The namekian scoffed, as a hooded figure slowly made his way out of the ship.

Even with the hood, hair seemed to practically stab out of the hood in an almost ridiculous fashion. Spikes upon spikes, causing the namekian to fold his arms. They eventually were staring face to face, as the hooded man spoke. 

“Oh, come now, Slug. What’s with the sour expression? I thought you missed me after all of these years.” The voice was suave, overwhelmingly confident. An ashen-toned hand reached out of the cloak, offering up a handshake for far too long before realizing it wasn’t going to be reciprocated. 

“It’s Lord Slug, boy, and you would be wise to respect it.” The namekian hissed, before hobbling back inside the cottage, leaving the cloaked man standing idly, before snorting. 

“Sure, sure. And I’m the King of Space.” 

The cloaked man raised a hand, before gesturing it forwards, as four more cloaked figures seemed to float out of the ship, landing single file behind him. Each of them differing in stature, and apparent attitude. The cloaked man turned to them, before huffing. “Okay, Land Sharks. Search the planet for any apparent life, and kill it. None are to know of this meeting.” 

One of the other cloaked figures scoffed, before walking face to face with the first, apparent leader. They were about the same height, and the tension between them was practically bubbling. He spoke, his voice gruff and tired. “Listen, kid.” He gestured to the four other cloaked figures. “We’re not going to just roll over and listen to you. Just because you got slapped in charge of the squadron, but we’ve got numbers and seniority. Now, there’s no damn reason to search the planet- we already did a cursory scan before we landed.” 

One of the larger cloaked men bubbled up a laugh, before the shortest of the four stepped between them. A woman. “Okay, can we put a rest to this tail-measuring contest? Commander- we will gratefully scour the planet, as you handle your little meeting with old-man Slug. Come on, boys.” She floated up into the air, before taking off. The others seemed to follow suit, the one that had challenged their ‘leader’ staring with some contempt and hesitation, before trailing behind the rest of the group. 

The first cloaked man groaned, as he turned around to enter the cottage, where the older namekian was waiting for him, a smug smile on his face. 

“Hmph. Serves you right. Young blood like you joins The Legion, and can’t get any respect. Not like you deserve it anyways.” The namekian hobbled over to a small pot filled with water, before grabbing a bag of dried, unidentified plant life and starting to sprinkle it in. “I only make tea for guests. But since it’s been damn near fifty years since I had’em, I hope you like crunchy leaf water.” 

The cloaked man found himself squatting at a table, before yanking off his hood, groaning. “What do you mean ‘not like I deserve it’?” He was decently young, with the dark hair and eyes of the Saiyan race. His skin was a dark, ashen tone, with several burn marks around his neck, and seemingly leading down his back. His own tail draped out from under the cloak, patchy and scarred. “I was- am, actually, the captain of some of the most notorious space pirates in the world! Literally, if I announce that I’m coming to the planet, the Galactic Patrol would be quaking in their boots. God, the only reason I’m doing this is because of the paycheck.” 

Slug rolled his eye, pouring the decrepit leaf water into two old cups, seemingly adorned with a ring of mold along the lip. He held one out to the ashen Saiyan, who reluctantly took it. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard of Turles, the Legendary Saiyan. Blah blah.” 

Turles stared at his cup, before hesitantly trying to pick the mold off. “The Saiyan race is practically extinct except for me and a couple others, and believe it or not, I’m the strongest. So, maybe I’ll just take what we came here for, get them back to the Commander, and then leave you in the dust.” 

“You know, the rocks talk. You haven’t heard shit about the Namekian Savior?” Slug took a long sip from the moldy cup, before wiping crud off of his lip. Turles rolled his eyes. 

“God, I’ve heard of the East Star Bunny too, but that doesn’t mean I think it’s real. Those are legends. I repeat, legends. The namekians got lucky with Frieza, ran away and escaped, and then made up a story about a Saiyan that swooped down from the heavens with golden hair, and beat down one of the strongest people in the galaxy. You’ve heard what the Frieza Force has said. The story is fake, just made to give out pointless ideals of hope and discredit Lord Frieza. Doesn’t even make damn sense anyways. Saiyan hair is black. Always has been, always will be.” The saiyan responded. Slug shook his head, before taking another sip of tea, which prompted Turles to gag. 

“Anyways.” Slug mumbled, getting up. “You came here for the…” 

“The Wish Orbs, yes.” 

“_Dragon Balls_. It took me years to craft these things. My power aint what it used to be.” He found a small basket, before carrying it over. Turles rubbed his chin, chuckling. 

“I expected them to be bigger.” 

Slug groaned, before walking over to a corner of the cottage, and pointing at six more, similarly-sized baskets. “They are. That’s just one. Each of these things took a fragment of my power, and my soul. If I die, they die. If they break, I die.” He shuffled over, pulling the covering off of one of the baskets, revealing a large, smoky-colored orb. It had four distorted, faint, black stars adorned on it, as Turles stared on in amazement. 

“You can get a total of four wishes out of these. Each one gradually growing in strength. You remember our deal, right?” Slug glared at Turles, who was gently rubbing one of the strange Dragon Balls, before looking back over at the green man. 

“Yeah, yeah. Wish one is to make you young, and then the rest are fair game.” 

“And, when you make your final and strongest wish, do it on a planet surface. They’ll burrow into the ground and destroy the planet in one week. If there’s no planet to attach to, or you’re too close, they’ll release all of their negative power into you or whatever unlucky son-of-a-bitch is close to the things.” 

Turles chuckled. “And then what? I think that Negative Energy could give me a good power boost.” 

Slug slapped the saiyan on the back of the head, huffing. “No, dumbass! It’ll kill ya instantly! Negative energy drains ki. You’ll turn into a black hole of a person, and it’s not like you’ll be alive to control yourself. Your body will just flop to the ground, and turn anything close to you into space dust!” 

The saiyan stared at Slug with a blank expression, before slowly starting to pick up each of the baskets. “Well… I’ll just take these back to the ship. And I guess you’re coming with us, since you’re the only one with the… let’s say ‘talent’ to use these things.” Turles smiled, in which Slug scoffed, shoving past the saiyan and heading towards the entrance to the ship, as Turles’ other four companions landed, following behind Slug, as Turles struggled with all seven baskets. 

“Uh, hey, any help? Come on!” He yelled, as Slug turned around. 

“Make sure to lock the door behind you. Don’t want to get robbed while I’m out.” He hobbled inside, while the other four cloaked figures- while their faces were hard to make out, the clear shaking of their shoulders made their poor attempt at hiding their enjoyment of Turles’ struggles apparent, before they disappeared into the ship as well. 

Turles groaned, hopping towards the ship. “I swear, the second I get in contact with the commander, I’m asking for my own team and a raise…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh, what's this? A couple movie villains because I wanted to do my own take on the characters?
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Yes that's exactly what this is.


	3. Stolen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku is captured by the Frieza Force, and learns a little bit about space politics.

Frieza could definitely be intimidating when he wanted to be. When he wasn’t getting extremely upset by the concept of losing, at least. Goku watched idly as the space emperor marched back and forth in front of him in the center of his throne room, as a swarm of Frieza Force and Galactic Patrol soldiers surrounded him, blasters at the ready. In one sense, he was trapped. On the other hand, he could easily Instant Transmission away- well, he might have been able to if these cuffs weren’t attached to him. Whatever they were, they were potent, and seemed to be doing a decent job of suppressing his power. He’d need to actually put a bit of time and effort to become a Super Saiyan, which felt wild within its own right.

“Son Goku. Idiotic survivor of the Saiyan Race, lower-class son of a nobody, and pain in my side for years.” The ruler began, chuckling to himself. “It’s quite funny that you found yourself in the middle of my spaceship. Tell me, was this a challenge? An accident? Did you take a wrong turn on the intergalactic interstate?” He grinned, his red eyes boring into the Saiyan. Goku’s expression didn’t change much, his jaw only clenching tighter. Frieza laughed, before wrapping his tail around Goku’s neck and slamming him into the ground. 

“Come on, you ape! Don’t you have something silly to say? A little joke you can make in my presence?” He threw his head back, laughing, before presenting him in front of the mob of soldiers around them. “Look! Look how this Saiyan trembles before my gravitas! I would just say this is humiliating, but you deserve so… much… worse.” Goku coughed, as his energy began to rise, before a shot pierced his shoulder, forcing him to stop and scream. He fell to his knees, grimacing. What were these cuffs? How long was Frieza holding something like this? To answer his question, the pale alien continued monologuing, dragging the Saiyan along as he paced back and forth. “You really are a fool you know. Actively getting into my restraining cuffs because it would ‘give you a challenge’. Thinking that nothing could possibly squash your power. Of course, my ideas were purely based on theory. In order to activate that silly blue-haired transformation of yours, you would need to also be able to activate that disgusting yellow-haired transformation. Kikono did all the math, really. For once, not only my genius is at play. Truly a brilliant invention.” He gestured over to the meek, yellow alien that had been at his side, who smiled sheepishly. “And with that in mind, well, your base power simply can’t withstand blaster shots without proper energy control, which you now lack.” 

Goku strained his neck to look up at Frieza, grimacing. “Man, Frieza. You really are the worst, huh? Vegeta an’ I shoulda’ killed ya’ back when Broly was on Earth. Hate t’say it, but Vegeta had a point…” He coughed, before being yanked upwards to a standing position. Frieza really was one for theatrics, and the fact that he couldn’t fight back meant that Frieza was free to perform all he wanted. His shoulders heaved, as he suddenly felt himself punched in the stomach, and dropped back to the ground. 

“My, my, Goku. This isn’t the time for you to be bragging about attempts on my life. You and your little backwater planet operate on different… politics. When ‘evil’ happens, you destroy it. Crush it the midst of your hairy, monkey palms. Out here, things are different. I’m a major governmental figure. The Galactic Patrol and I are at an… impasse. They realize they can’t stop me, and in an effort to save face, I simply leave them be.” He gestured to the menagerie of aliens before him. Each of them wearing either the armored uniforms of the Frieza Force, or the more tight-fitting, slick outfits of the Galactic Patrol. Goku frowned. He hadn’t done anything wrong, if anything he had helped them out a couple of times. So why was the Galactic Patrol so hesitant to actually stop Frieza? 

“But I’m a good guy, right? I haven’t done nothin’ to the Patrol! Heck, I’m even friends with one of ‘em! Or, well, Bulma is! Can I talk to that one? Maybe he can vouch for me!” He asked, hopefully. Frieza probably wasn’t going to allow it. The guy could be a real stick-in-the-mud, but it didn’t hurt to ask. He looked around the crowd, before spotting a short, blue-and-purple alien who was making frantic gestures towards him. He wasn’t sure if they meant ‘stop’, or ‘keep going’. So he decided to keep going. “Hey! Jaco! That’s him! The one wavin’ his arms! Hi, Jaco!” He tried to wave back, before realizing that his arms were cuffed. Well, that sucked. 

Jaco looked exasperated, and didn’t seem happy when he was forcibly shoved out into the middle of the circle where he was suddenly alone with Frieza and Goku. Either way, he was massively out of his league. “Oh, well…” He looked around nervously, hearing a few chuckles from the other members of the Galactic Patrol. “I guess… officially… I have seen him protect Planet Earth. So, that’s certainly… something?” He said. Which wasn’t extremely hopeful for Goku, although Frieza seemed to be relishing this change of pace. Jaco tried to back his way back into the mob of soldiers, before being pushed back into the center. He tried a few more times, each one more desperate than the last, before he was locked in place by a field of purple energy, and slowly dragged back towards Frieza, who was grinning maniacally. 

Frieza dropped Goku on the ground, chuckling. “Oh, my. I certainly remember you. The idiot who stopped my armies from getting my revenge. I had Berryblue do some research on you. Apparently you were designated to make sure that this Saiyan never made it to Planet Earth. Well, it seems like you failed. Or perhaps… were you a sympathizer to the Saiyan threat? Wanting the Earth to be destroyed? Perhaps you should be executed as well.” He chuckled, before slowly lifting Jaco off the ground with his power, Goku watching helplessly as the small alien was lifted off the ground like a balloon. The situation felt oddly familiar, although much less personal. He didn’t know Jaco that well, but he didn’t want to see the guy die. A friend of Bulma was a friend of his. So, he did what any sane person would do in this situation. He scooted over and bit Frieza on the back of the leg. 

The emperor screamed, dropping Jaco and kicking Goku in the face. “I can’t believe you- are you insane?! I swear, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you myself! All of you except for the puny patrolman are dismissed! Leave! Now!” He screamed, as all of the soldiers awkwardly found themselves shuffling out of the room, leaving the three of them to their own devices. Goku found his way back to his feet with plenty of effort, before hopping over and trying to dropkick Frieza, only to find his legs grabbed and his entire body being flung to the end of the throne room. He hit the ground with a thud, groaning, before watching as Jaco attempted to sprint out of the room, only to find himself forcibly yanked back by Frieza’s abilities. Goku strained himself, his hair beginning to float up and change color, before he found himself struck with a Death Beam into his other shoulder, interrupting him with another fix of pain. He found himself struggling to sit up, as Jaco pathetically tried to land a punch on Frieza, which was redirected as he was flung into the air, spinning about wildly, before being smacked like a volleyball by Frieza’s tail right into Goku. The two of them sat dizzily next to each other, before watching as Frieza slowly approached him, a manic look in his eyes. 

“I’ll kill you. I’m going to finally kill you. Right here, right now.” He hissed, before holding both of his hands out, pointing two fingers. One at Jaco, and one at Goku, as they began to flare up with devilish purple energy. Jaco shook his head, before leaning over to the side. He cleared his throat, as Goku coughed, narrowing his eyes to glare at his enemy. Jaco cleared his throat again, this time catching both of their attention. Frieza’s eyes narrowed to near slits. “_What._” 

“I don’t mean to interrupt your soon-to-be murder, but I think we’ve got some company? Maybe you should kill those guys first? Just saying. Maybe. Just a really humble suggestion.” He pointed out, causing Frieza to turn around, before taking a cautious step back with confusion. Goku fell to his side, staring at the newcomers with a blank expression. Three aliens. Each of them adorned in some sort of variation of the Frieza Force armor. Their faces were obscured by old-model Frieza Force helmets, as the shortest of the group pulled out two rings, and threw them towards Jaco and Frieza with expert precision. Jaco found his neck caught by the ring, and slammed to the ground, writhing as it seemed to tighten around his neck mercilessly. Frieza was a bit faster, blocking the ring from hitting his neck with a swift arm movement, but seemed confused as it latched onto his arm, snapped over to his other arm, and then found himself convulsing with an incredibly intense shock. Goku stared at the three newcomers, squinting. 

“Who are you guys? If you’re here t’ help me, can ya at least let Jaco go? He’s on my side.” He asked, as they approached slowly. The shortest- Goku assumed to be the leader- finally spoke. His voice accented- which was weird to Goku in the sense that he hadn’t met any space people with definable accents. He wasn’t even sure what kind of accent it was. It just seemed to be an ‘accent’. 

“Sorry, no can do. We were specifically ordered to take care of you and ‘Lord Frieza’ by our commander.” He made a gesture, as the other two, larger aliens dashed forwards and picked the three of them up. Goku made a face, considering the one that was grabbing him had almost wet, amphibian-like skin. “You are now officially our prisoners. Which is good. We have very, very good prison food. We treat our animals very well, you see.” He turned around, before pulling up a device on his wrist. “Setting warp coordinates. We will simply have to abandon our ship. Frieza’s troops will double-down on it as soon as they find out their precious boss is missing. Now we just need to make sure we are not-” 

A pillar of light appeared in the center of the throne room, as Whis, Vegeta, Gohan, Goten, and Trunks found themselves standing awkwardly in front of the scene. A moment passed, before the four fighters snapped into fighting stances, and Whis chuckled. “Well, I would love to stick around for this, but I finished my tiramisu, and Lord Beerus is going to get extremely cranky if I don’t finish putting him to sleep. So, toodles!” He waved with a smile, before snapping away in another flash of light. The four fighters snapped into Super Saiyan, as Goku gave them a weak smile. “Hey guys! Just in time, I’m being kidnapped!” 

“Gah, only Kakarot can make kidnapping seem like an everyday occurance. What an idiot.” Vegeta scoffed, folding his arms. “How are you even captured, anyways? You should be able to wipe the floor with these idiots. They have the most pathetic power levels I’ve sensed in a while.” That seemed to anger the two larger aliens, who took a step forth, snarling, before the leader of the group put out his hands, shaking his head. 

“My, my. The Prince of the Simians himself. What an honor.” The short assailant mocked a bow, before throwing four rings towards the Saiyan survivors with a flourish, watching with relative amusement as Gohan and Vegeta managed to easily dive away from the rings, blowing them up with a single ki blast, while Goten and Trunks weren’t nearly as lucky. The ring clasped on to Goten’s neck, sending him flying backwards as he desperately tried to claw it off. Gohan’s eyes widened, before dashing over to Goten with a yell, trying to pry it off as best as possible. The other ring caught Trunk’s legs, sending the purple-haired boy slamming to the ground, before being pumped full with an inordinate amount of electricity, sending him convulsing. Vegeta’s teeth gritted, as he looked between the idiots who dared to insult him, and his son laying on the ground. 

He took a breath, before quickly moving over to Trunks, ripping off the ring with a hurry. Trunks pointed behind him, yelling. “Dad! They’re getting away!” He screamed, before Vegeta turned around, watching as the three armored aliens seemed to blink out of existence. The prince dashed over to where they were, looking around furiously. Trunks limped over, eyes downcast. “Come on, Dad, you didn’t need to save--” 

Vegeta glared at his son. “I know I didn’t, boy. But I’ll be damned if they’re going to use such a disgusting trick against you. You’ll be better next time, correct?” He asked with a snarl. Trunks nodded profusely before Goten and Gohan jogged up next to them, the older Son sibling holding one of the rings in his hand. He tossed it around for a moment, before presenting it to Vegeta, his eyes narrowing. 

“I grabbed this. We should probably get these back to Bulma. With that, we might get some idea of who we’re up against. Or at least a clue about their tech.” He said, simply. He sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe they got Dad. And they were able to at least totally incapacitate Goten and Trunks. Whatever these rings are, they can shut down someone’s power in an instant. If we got hit by them-” 

“We didn’t get hit by them, brat. I'm a warrior, those tricks mean nothing to me. Although I'm sure it was more luck in your case.” Vegeta snapped back, before heading to the exit of the throne room. “Come. I still know how to pilot some of Frieza’s ships. We steal some, and then we go home. As much as I hate to admit it, you have a point.” He gestured to the three half-Saiyans, as they followed behind the prince.


	4. The Game Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma is tired, Trunks and Goten are benched, and Krillin gets bitten.

Bulma was one of the smartest women on Planet Earth. Arguably _the smartest_, but she didn’t know when the next Gero or Slump was going to pop out of the woodwork. So, she added that addendum just in case, although everyone else knew the truth.

That being said, she had no idea what these rings were. 

“Are you sure that’s what they used, Vegeta?” She repeated, several holographic images of the rings spiraling across her lab as she weaved between them. The four warriors stared at her, all with relative amounts of confusion. She was fairly impressed that Trunks was able to handle and calibrate some of the equipment on his own, however. The young half-Saiyan had taken to spending extra time in the lab when he wasn’t working on schoolwork or playing with Goten, and while Vegeta didn’t seem to find much merit in doing so, Bulma fully appreciated the fact that her son wasn’t planning on getting along purely by looks, riches, and strength. At least, if that was his plan, he’d have some sort of brains to go along with it. Just like his mother. She really was a goddess among men. 

Of course, her little burst of pride was squashed by her beloved husband’s rasp. “Of course that’s what they used, woman. They practically choked Kakarot’s brat and castrated the boy.” She turned to look towards him, slipping her goggled onto her forehead, as Trunks and Goten stepped off to the side in order to get a better look at the rings. “I would assume that you of all people could understand them. I guess I was mistaken.” He growled, causing Bulma to narrow her eyes at him. Still, she had to be a bit flattered that she was his first resource for analyzing alien tech, but it was just that: alien. Most of her experiences had related to either Saiyan or Frieza Force technology, and this was a solid neither. 

“Aren’t you sweet, but the most I could analyze was the fact that they were cuffs. And that’s pretty freaking obvious.” She shook her head, leaning against one of the consoles. “Although, you said that they specifically reacted once they touched your bodies?” She looked towards the two boys, as Goten’s face seemed to pale, and Trunks looked uncomfortable. The purple-haired boy looked down, kicking at the ground lightly. 

“Uh… yeah. I felt totally helpless too. Like, sure, I probably could break out, but my body didn’t let me.” He said, with an embarrassed tone. Bulma’s eyes darted over to Vegeta, expecting him to scoff, or make some sort of crude comment. To her surprise, the Saiyan seemed concerned, the wheels in his own head spinning as well, she assumed. He suddenly spoke up. 

“Bio-cuffs.” He said, simply. A silence fell over the room, before an annoyed Bulma gestured for him to continue. “I was only a child when I first heard of them, but they were experimental. Lord Frieza’s men brought me in as a sample of Saiyan DNA.” He grimaced. “...It was a painful process, and it ended up being for naught. The amount of time and resources it would cost to take the DNA of every species outweighed the simpler solution of making basic, all-purpose stasis cuffs.” He explained, before glancing at Trunks and Goten. “...But, why did it work on them?” 

“We might need to do some tests.” Bulma explained. “Both to see what kind of DNA these cuffs have, and to see what percentage it may take for them to activate.” She looked over at Gohan warily. “Could I borrow P-” 

“No!” He yelled, dark eyes dilating, catching everyone by surprise. He blinked, before taking a deep breath to compose himself. “That thing almost killed Goten. There’s no way I’m letting my baby get choked to death. I’d never-” He stopped slightly, as Goten walked over, gripping on to his older brother’s hand. He floated up, before whispering something into Gohan’s ear, as the oldest demi-Saiyan seemed to slowly regain his composure. “Sorry, Bulma. If you want a diluted Saiyan blood sample, use me. It’s not like they’re going to attack Pan anyways. Besides, if we need it, we can use a human sample as well and make a few hypotheses.” Bulma didn’t say anything, just nodding. She understood perfectly. It was a bit of a careless request, and she would have reacted the same way if Bulla was presented as a candidate for something like this. 

“So.” Vegeta grumbled. “Let’s call the Namekian and one of Kakarot’s friends, and get this over with so we can save him.” 

Bulma nodded. “Yeah. I’ll call Eighteen and see if she can get Krillin to come over.” She walked out of the lab, as Vegeta approached Trunks, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. He turned, making sure Bulma was out of the lab, before squeezing his son’s shoulder gently. 

“You and Goten are no longer a part of this. Kakarot’s eldest has a point. Those bio-cuffs almost choked Kakarot’s youngest to death, and they could have broken your limbs if I didn’t remove them fast enough.” He whispered, as Trunks’ eyes widened. 

“Dad, that’s not fair! Goten and I are older now, Super Gotenks could easily-” 

“Those fools carried off Kakarot like a sack of potatoes!” Vegeta yelled. “Kakarot is one of the strongest Saiyans in this blasted universe- one of the strongest fighters in several universes, and he was rendered useless! You and Goten are children, and children shouldn’t be on the battlefield.” His dark eyes narrowed, as Trunks mirrored the expression. 

“That’s not fair! Didn’t Gohan fight when he was even younger than us? And we fought Majin Buu! We’re totally ready for this! We’ll just dodge next time!” 

Gohan stepped forwards. “Trunks. Listen to your dad. Trust me, fighting when you’re a kid isn’t pretty. I fought because I had to, so that you and Goten didn’t have to. I… I did things that I never want to do again.” He looked over at Vegeta, who didn’t interrupt. Just stood there, listening intently. “I broke someone’s neck when I was five years old.” He said coldly. “You and Goten are lucky. I don’t want you two to get hurt, and I don’t want you two to hurt like I did. So, for once, Vegeta and I agree.” He paused, as an awkward silence settled, before he heard a cough near the door. 

“If it helps, Gohan’s not lyin’. I was on Namek too. Although I don’t think I got it nearly as bad. The kid is brave, but right.” A somewhat nasally voice commented, as everyone turned to look at Krillin, Eighteen, and Bulma standing in the doorway to the lab. Goten’s expression brightened slightly, as he waved, and the mood to the lab seemed to pick up, thankfully. 

“Hey Uncle Krillin!” 

The short monk winked, walking over to give the boy a hug. “Woah, Goku! Did you get shorter, or am I finally getting taller?” The boy laughed, pushing the older man away playfully. 

“I’m not my dad! It’s Goten!” 

“Huh? Goten? Darn it. Guess I’m still short then.” He said with a chuckle, as Eighteen sauntered up next to him, folding her arms. 

“Lucky you. I don’t think I could love a man that’s taller than me.” She said, dryly, the only thing indicating that she was joking was the wry smile that crossed her lips. She looked over the few Saiyans, as Vegeta mumbled a ‘we’ll continue this later’ to Trunks, before standing to face Eighteen. The two stared at each other, before giving each other a forced nod of acknowledgement. Krillin chuckled, as Bulma walked over to one of the many cluttered counters, grabbing one of the rings. 

“Oh, Krillin?” She hummed, before tossing the broken ring towards the human. Or, at least her arm motion indicated that it was supposed to be a light toss. As soon as the ring was airborne with some sort of purpose, it seemed to shoot forwards, gripping on to Krillin’s arm, the ring seemingly regenerating. He stumbled backwards, a look of shock on his face- and then a literal one as an electrical pulse shot through his body, forcing him to the ground. Eighteen’s eyes widened as she instantly kneeled down alongside him, ripping off the device with an unprecedented amount of force, before her cold blue eyes snapped to Bulma. 

“What the hell was that.” The blonde demanded an explanation. Bulma was staring, wide-eyed. 

“I… I don’t know! I didn’t realize it would just home into him! Oh, sweet Kami! Are you okay, Krillin?” She ran over next to her friend, as Krillin slowly wobbled up to his feet, rubbing his arm. He looked at it, his expression somewhat concerned. 

“Darn thing bit me!” He exclaimed, holding out his wrists. Several puncture wounds were prevalent around his wrist, drawing gasps from everyone in the lab. Bulma grabbed Krillin’s wrist, seemingly deaf to his groans of pain and discomfort. 

She mumbled to herself. “What… is this? Why did it do that-” They were suddenly startled by a voice across the lab. 

_”Giriririri! New species added! Locking source location for further analysis!”_ The other ring on the other side of the lab chirped, flashing blue for a few seconds before dying down. 

Gohan’s eyes widened. “Locking…” 

“Location?!” Krillin yelled. “You mean that thing just alerted whatever it’s owner is to the fact that Earth exists?” The group of Z-Fighters exchanged glances, before all of them exclaimed in various forms of tired groans except for the two youngest, who seemed a bit excited at the idea of a fight coming to their home turf. 

“Should I call Seventeen?” Eighteen asked, once the tired groans ended. “We should group everyone up if we’re expecting a fight.” 

“No.” Vegeta grunted. “We’re not just going to sit back idly and wait for the fight to come to us. We’re going to need to find the source of those rings, and make sure the Earth doesn’t come into its owner's path.” He looked amongst the individuals in the room. “My idea is that we split into groups. A strike team to find the Ring-Wielders, and one that defends the planet.” 

“Fine.” Eighteen replied. “Then I’m going. That thing bit my husband and took his DNA. That’s weird and gross.” 

Krillin nodded. “Me too. For… basically the same reasons as Eighteen. And I’m guessing you and Gohan are going too?” 

Gohan nodded. “That’s my plan. Seventeen as well. He and Eighteen’s infinite energy will be useful in space.” Vegeta scoffed, before sighing in reluctant agreement. 

“That black-haired fool did manage to have a decent showing at the Tournament of Power. So, I have no qualms with him coming. The walking doll however…” He gave Eighteen a wary look, before the blonde gave him a blatant middle finger, frowning at him. 

“I’m going. Deal with it, prick. I’m getting tired of sitting on the sidelines anyway.” 

Bulma sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine, fine. The good news is, I can probably pinpoint the location that rings signal is going out to. So, we’ll have an idea of where to start searching. I can also see if we can get a ship up and running, and send out a message to the rest of the guys, and-” She sighed, dramatically. “Kami, why am I the one that has to do everything? You all go get your things together, come back tomorrow morning. Apparently, Bulma isn’t getting any sleep tonight- which means that Dad is going to have to do the board meetings, which are sure to be a disaster and…” She grumbled, pulling on a pair of goggles and yanking around a swivel chair, getting to work. After a few moments, she shooed everyone out of the lab, as they all stood on the grass lining Capsule Corp. Gohan looked at Goten, shrugging, before the two of them shot off into the air. 

“I’ll need to find a babysitter.” Krillin mumbled. Eighteen rubbed his shoulder, shrugging. 

“It’ll be easy. What about that friend? Lunch?” 

“Oh, yeah, because I’ll trust Launch with a baby.” He laughed, before pausing. “...Eh, worth a shot. I wonder if she’s free.” The couple then left out into the sky, leaving Trunks and Vegeta standing in silence. 

“...Dad, I don’t want to be left out.” He said, simply. “I want to be strong too.” 

Vegeta sighed, before running a hand through his son’s hair carefully, before starting to walk off. “Go finish your homework. I’m going to check up on Bulla.” He kept walking, sighing to himself, before mumbling when he was out of Trunks’ earshot. “And I want you to grow up to be strong, Trunks. For this once, I don't need you to be a Saiyan...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanon is that Gohan's got a lot of issues.
> 
> Although that isn't really 'headcanon' as it is more 'unaddressed actual canon'.


	5. The Saiyan From Vampa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broly forgets to wear pants. Cheelai is loving it, Lemo is tired. Broly squashes some pests. The trio learn about Turles.

It had been a year since his father had died. A year since he managed to find a family in his own right. He still wasn’t used to it. Waking up in a bed, waking up next to someone who legitimately cared about him. Deep down, he still thought his Dad cared, but at the same time, the more Cheelai and Lemo talked to him, and the more he tried to talk about and justify his Father’s teachings, they would exchange ‘That Look’. That was what he had started to label it. Lemo’s eyes would get concerned, before glancing over to Cheelai, who would scrunch up her nose and clearly try and hold back some additional comment. They were trying not to blatantly insult his Father, but he could understand. He wasn’t _stupid_.

He felt a tiny hand on his back, rubbing it slightly. “Mornin’. You’re tense. Talk to me.” Cheelai was… abrasive. She didn’t shy away from the point. Which was good, because that meant that most of the time she was much more honest with him. She didn’t lie to his face. Didn’t try and deceive him. It made him happy. 

He sat up slowly, furrowing his brow. “You hate my Father.” He said. A familiar groan came as she rolled out of the capsule bed, heading out of the bedroom. While she didn’t lie to him, she was also very adept at bailing from topics she didn’t have any personal interest in. Her responses would vary by day. He had brought up this topic often, not exactly sure what he was reaching for. And every time, she would just walk away. He overheard her and Lemo talking one time. 

“He keeps asking if I hate his dad.” She had said. Not with her ‘annoyed voice’, but with a ‘concerned one’. His father spoke more with the former. It had taken him a little bit of time to learn the distinction. 

“Do you?” Lemo had replied, carefully. 

“No. I _hated_ his dad. The old bastard’s dead now. Tenses are important.” She practically spat, then her voice had gotten soft. “He can’t hurt Broly anymore, now.” 

He supposed that’s why he kept bringing it up, even though he knew the answer. He wanted Cheelai to tell him herself. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would do afterwards, though. Argue with her? They hadn’t had many arguments before. Every time things would get heated between them, Lemo would be there to try and calm everything down, and make Cheelai apologize, even when they both knew that she wasn’t the one that needed to. He knew the reason for that too. They didn’t want him to ‘go bad’ again. Lose track of everything. Only see outlines, and colors, and not be able to tell friend from foe. Accidentally kill them like he had killed his Father. 

He watched as he left, sitting there for a moment longer, before yanking himself out of bed. He had realized that he liked the feeling of ‘covers’. They were snug, sometimes too snug. Cheelai had accused him of ‘hogging them’ at times. That wasn’t the problem, sometimes he felt like they were grabbing on to him instead of vice-versa. He wandered out into the small kitchen of the Capsule House that Goku-Kakarot had gotten them. Well, small for him. He could reach up and touch the ceiling. Everyone else seemed like they had enough space. Lemo had already been awake, making coffee. Broly had asked about it a few months, and Lemo had called it ‘space coffee’, even though the box only said ‘coffee’ on it. He learned a couple days later that it was a joke. The older, orange alien looked up for a moment, before looking away. 

“Broly. Pants.” He reminded. The large Saiyan looked down, before heading back inside the bedroom. It was a habit. The only clothes he had when he was young was his battle uniform, so he wasn’t allowed to sleep in it out of his Father’s concern of ruining it. So, he would generally wrap himself in the carcass of one of the larger animals and then change in the mornings. 

“Don’t be such a spoil-sport, Lemo. If he wants to walk around without pants, I say let him.” Cheelai smirked, as the other alien made a face. 

“Gross. You should put on something decent too. Today’s a Goku Day. I think he’s going to be doing some mindfulness exercises with Broly.” 

“It’s not gross. He’s simply expressing himself. And I get to enjoy it.” She retorted. 

“”Keep that stuff for the bedroom.” 

“Oh, shut up, Lemo. It's a totally casual, platonic, friendly bed-sharing. We haven’t even done anything serious. _Yet._” She winked. 

Lemo rolled his eyes as Broly, now including pants and Ba’s pelt, almost sprinted back into the kitchen. He had almost forgotten. He always enjoyed it when Goku-Kakarot would come and train him. The agreement had been once every Earth month, and then they would talk about things like ‘Ki control’ or transforming, and then get in a few hours of sparring in. Some days, he would bring the Prince, and then they would all spar together. While he wasn’t sure how he felt about the Prince, he did like how competitive the smallest Saiyan would get while fighting. Outside of Cheelai and Lemo, it felt like Goku-Kakarot and the Prince were his only other friends. ...Although there were times where he got the feeling the Prince didn't like him as much. 

“I hope he shows me another transformation. I would enjoy seeing that ‘Super Saiyan 3’. I have only seen the yellow, red, and blue ones.” Broly said simply, ransacking the fridge. Luckily, Goku also brought food with him. It was hard making sure that he didn’t eat everything in there, and additionally make sure that Cheelai and Lemo also had enough. 

“Ugh, there’s more?” Cheelai groaned. “I swear, that guy is like every color of the rainbow. If he busts out pink as a hair color, I think I’m quitting Saiyans forever.” 

“Well, they are an adaptational warrior species. You’ve never read up on them?” Lemo asked, sliding a cup of coffee over to Cheelai. 

“No, Lemo, because I’m not a nerd.” 

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” 

Broly wandered over to the window, looking out. Goku-Kakarot usually showed up early, since he was just as excited to train as Broly was. So, the fact that he wasn’t here at the crack of dawn was fairly concerning. The large Saiyan squinted, before opening up the door and sniffing at the air. Something wasn’t right. 

“Get down. We are not alone on this planet.” He growled, his hair slowly begin to stand on end, and his muscles beginning to flex. It was the smell of metal. Armor. Sweat, which meant that they were apprehensive. Hiding. Watching from another place hoping that they wouldn’t be noticed. He hadn’t mastered sensing energy like Goku-Kakarot and the Prince, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own share of tricks. He had spent decades hunting on Vampa. His senses were sharper than the other two pure Saiyans. He snarled, baring his teeth, looking around, before seeing two small shapes darting around in the distance. 

Before either one of the smaller aliens could say anything, Broly took off with a burst of speed, the force from his sudden movement causing the capsule house to shake as he darted towards the two smaller intruders. He grabbed one by the head, slamming it towards the ground, before suddenly grabbing the other with a burst of speed. Neither of them had seemingly expected him to be fast, and he threw them to the side, watching as they collapsed, broken. 

One of them reached for a comm, trying to gurgle out something. Apparently, neither of them were truly ready for Broly’s strength. “Turles… we have confirmation… he’s strong… the files weren’t lyi-” Broly stomped on the radio, glaring down at the two aliens that had dared to bother his friends. 

“Leave my friends alone.” He snarled, before jumping up in the air, letting gravity take control as he plummeted back down, landing on the two of them with a horrifying crack and an echoing crash. Of course, at that point, Lemo and Cheelai had run outside, staring at the two ruined aliens. The two of them grimaced, glancing over at Broly, who was slowly trying the breathing exercises that Goku had taught him, his hair slowly dropping back down to it’s normal state. 

“...Do you think that they’re Frieza guys?” Cheelai asked, kneeling down to get a better look at the limp, squashed bodies. Broly squatted down as well, eyes narrowing. They were both short, identical in appearance. Light blue skin, giant heads, and dull blue blood pooled from them. 

“They mentioned something about ‘Tullece’.” Broly added. 

Lemo almost screamed. He managed to get out half of one, before clasping his hands to his mouth, the other two aliens giving him a worried look. “Oh. Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad. We just killed two members of Turles' Crusher Corp. Cheelai, you know who Turles is, right?” He gave her a panicked look, as she rubbed her chin. 

“Eh. I think he got mentioned once or twice during some Frieza Force briefings? He’s just some criminal, right? Or are you going to give me a lecture on why we should be pissing ourselves?” The green-skinned alien gave him a wry look, before sitting on the ground, legs crossed, pretending to be enthralled in whatever he was about to say. Broly wandered over, looking at Cheelai with a confused expression, before miming her position, the two of them staring up at Lemo. Although Broly was legitimately interested in what the older alien had to say, his hands anxiously grabbing at the pelt around his waist. 

Lemo cleared his throat, clenching his gloved fists. “Turles is one of the most dangerous Space Pirates alive. He’s a Saiyan survivor, like that Goku guy, Broly, and Prince Vegeta. The thing is, legend says that he didn’t end up surviving by luckily being off-planet, but that he actually survived the explosion of the planet. Like, while the rest of the planet was incinerated, he wasn't. Nobody’s seen his body, since he always keeps it armored, but it’s allegedly all scars and burn tissue. He was saved by a mysterious benefactor, and recovered enough to terrorize the galaxy. Any civilization that’s tried to stand against him has failed. He’s been considered to be the ‘Legendary Super Saiyan’, and we just killed two of his men.” 

Cheelai raised an eyebrow. “But that’s bullshit, right? Outside of the dumb planet surviving thing. I mean, if anything, Broly is our ‘Legendary Super Saiyan’, if not that Goku guy.” 

Broly’s brow furrowed. A fourth Saiyan. One that would surely be upset once he found out his friends were killed. The wheels in his head were turning, his eyes blank with intense thought, before he saw a pair of small fingers snapping in front of them, attempting to draw him back to reality. 

“Vampa to Broly.” Cheelai cooed, nudging him slightly. “There’s no reason to be scared, big guy. You could probably take this ‘Turles’ guy down with a hand behind your back. Besides, who cares if he survived a planetary explosion? You probably could too, right?” 

Broly nodded. His skin as a baby was extraordinarily tough. 

Lemo sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling. First Goku doesn’t show up, then we’re apparently getting spied on by Turles’ gang?" He rubbed his chin, before adjusting his gloves. "I’m going to get busy working on our ship. If we need to make a speedy getaway, it’s best to make sure it’s in working condition.” The older alien walked away, leaving Cheelai and Broly to talk amongst themselves. 

“Man, what a worrywart. You’re the strongest Saiyan I know, Broly. We’re safe as long as you’re here.” She gave him a smile which helped the larger Saiyan feel at ease. He made a promise to himself. If he was not able to keep his Father safe, then he would make sure that he would keep his friends safe. He stared up towards the sky, eyes glaring towards Vampa’s sky. He was a Saiyan, and his Father taught him that the most important things to a Saiyan were pride, territory, and their pack. His teeth bared, sharpened fangs on display. The Oozaru in him surged up, as he released a guttural, primal howl towards the cosmos, practically daring this ‘Turles’ to come and fight him. If the universe wasn’t going to leave him and his friends alone, then he would force them to back off. 

With that, he turned around, flying his way back to the comfort of his companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I went with Broly casually calling Goku, 'Goku-Kakarot', just out of indecisiveness, since he likes both names. He probably would be more inclined to just say 'Kakarot' when speaking out-loud.
> 
> How much milage can I get out of the 'Turles-Tullece' confusion bit? Considering it wasn't very funny to begin with, who knows?
> 
> Also, Lemo and Piccolo are the only real Dad representation in Dragon Ball. Vegeta and Goku are getting there, though.


	6. Liftoff!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody wants to go to Yamcha's baseball game. Trunks is bummed out. Bulma announces the game plan. The chances of cabin fever for our adventurers skyrockets.

“Captain’s Log. We’ve been cruising the stars for several days. Vegeta has gone insane, locking himself away in the back of the ship. Gohan, realizing that he was at least ten feet away from his child, made a false Pan out of space food. Eighteen realized she didn’t bring any hair care products with her and exiled herself out into the cold vacuum of space. Seventeen… I don’t know what happened to Seventeen. Nobody knows. There is doubt that he even came with us in the first place. Had we just imagined him? His silky dark hair. Mischievous smirk. Face that looks way too similar to my wife’s for my own personal comfort. Was he simply a collective figment of our imaginations? Find out next time on--”

Krillin felt a hard smack on the back of his head, before turning around to look at Bulma, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. “You all haven’t left yet! Jeez, this isn’t exactly the time to waste time, Krillin. We’re just waiting for Yamcha to get here, and then we’ll discuss the plan.” She said, snatching away one of Trunk’s toy walkie-talkies from the monk, who chuckled shyly, slowly walking back over to the group. He stood next to Eighteen, who had been casually chatting with her twin brother for the past couple of minutes. Most of the Z-Warriors had gathered, with the obvious exception of Goku, and Yamcha who had been running a little bit late. 

“What’s taking the idiot so long?” Vegeta snarled. “If he doesn’t hurry up, then we’ll just have the pig relay the information. We need to get going, before that signal you caught goes to waste.” 

“Leave Yamcha alone. He said he had baseball practice today. You know, he has a career, unlike you. He’s been trying to get us to go to one of his games for the past couple weeks.” Tien replied, calmly. “Chiaotzu and I have been going. Even Oolong and Roshi have tried to make a few as well. He’s doing very well for himself.” 

Bulma grimaced. “Oh, man! I forgot! I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t had any time to see his games. I hope he’s not taking it personally.” 

“He’s definetely taking it personally.” Piccolo mumbled, as two figures appeared in the air. They watched as Yamcha landed in front of them, still in his baseball uniform, as Puar floated around him with a smile. The scarred man grinned, waving at them before jogging over. 

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late. I had practice, and it ran a bit late. But hey, there’s a game this weekend? I could definitely grab you all tickets if-” He was cut off by Bulma clearing her throat. 

“Sorry, Yamcha. Can’t. Important space business.” Bulma explained, while many of the other Z-Fighters mumbled a myriad of excuses. The former bandit sighed, shaking his head, before gesturing for Bulma to at least start the meeting, so that the attention would be off of him for another moment. 

Bulma cleared her throat. “Well, as you all have probably noticed, Goku’s missing. No, he’s not off on some remote planet training, he’s been kidnapped.” There were a few mumbles of confusion between the warriors. Mainly at the idea that Goku had been kidnapped and it was an actual emergency, instead of him just wandering off with a bunch of strangers, and ending up back home a couple days later with some new extra-terrestrial friends. “They uses these things- ‘bio-cuffs’- to lock him down.They’re essentially these metal-like rings that can shut down your power. Really bad. And by some means that are of no fault of anybody here…” Bulma glanced over at Krillin and Eighteen, who both narrowed their eyes in unison. Bulma nervously chuckled, before continuing. “...They managed to get a read on Earth. Which is also bad, for a variety of reasons. So basically, we called you all here to set up a plan. Vegeta, Krillin, the twins, and Gohan will be making their way to the last reported signal that the rings transmitted to.” 

Chiaotzu raised his hand. “Bulma! Bulma! Why don’t we just call Whis? He could take people there instantly!” 

“Good question! He’s babysitting Lord Beerus. For a millenia-old god, he needs a lot of supervision. He did perform the very good favor of at least getting us to the point where we’re aware Goku has been kidnapped.” She shrugged. “But, we’ll need a defense force back here on Earth, just in case. So, I can’t really tell you guys how to do the violent part of your jobs, so… I’ll leave you all to get to that. While Trunks and Goten…” 

The two boys perked up, waiting for their incredibly important role in the mission. 

“You boys get to watch Seventeen’s park again!” 

Goten cheered, Trunks scowled. 

“Oh, yay. We don’t even get to fight the invading guys? Sounds great, Mom.” Trunks groaned. 

“This will be awesome, Trunks! I can’t wait to see all those cool animals again! And remember when we beat up those poachers! Oh, man, I’m so hyped!” Goten raised his arms in the air. Bulma seemed proud enough of herself, as Trunks grabbed Goten by the arm and started to pull him away from the group, mumbling something about ‘not caring about this stupid problem anyways’. 

“So, uh, mission adjourned with that. Come on, split up, team up, whatever. Just make sure that the planet isn’t totally destroyed when our space team gets back.” Bulma clapped her hands, before gesturing for all of the Z-Warriors that were heading to space to follow her. She lead them into one of Capsule Corps larger laboratory buildings, before unveiling a decently-sized spaceship, similar to the one they had used to get to Namek, if not slightly larger to accommodate the slight increase in passenger size. 

“Wow, Bulma, this is great!” Gohan exclaimed, “This should definitely work!” 

Bulma waved him off, giggling. “Oh, stop it you. But don’t, actually. I enjoy the praise. It’s not like I hear it enough from Vegeta.” 

The short Saiyan groaned, rolling his eyes. “Just tell us what the deal with it is so that we can go.” He growled, as Bulma stuck her tongue out at him, before leading them all inside of the ship. It was spacious, not many rooms outside of the main bridge of the ship, with the exception of several small cabins. There was a shelf with several containers full of capsules, each one helpfully labelled with things like ‘food’ and ‘medical supplies’, and a refrigerator. The front of the ship didn’t have a window, but had several live feeds of what was occurring around the ship at a 360 degree radius. She lead them up to the main control panel of the ship, which had already been turned on. 

“You can either steer or autopilot, but this point will always be marked.” She tapped on one of the screens, as the image of a marked map exploded out to encompass the front of the ship, the other images being pushed to the side. “This is where I last got a ping from the rings. So once you get there, you’ll be on your own.” 

“Are there games on this thing too?” Seventeen asked, in the dry tone that Bulma had learned to identify as the twin’s special type of sarcasm. She looked at him with a sly smirk, before pressing another button, as a seperate screen was projected near the back of the ship. 

“I added some things to at least slow down the process of ‘cabin fever’. Hopefully this should keep people entertained until we find the people we’re looking for, and stop you all from actually murdering each other.” She said, proudly. Seventeen let out an impressed huff, as Eighteen chuckled behind him. “So, all you need to do is load up your luggage, and then get started. Time is of the essence after all.” She paused for a moment, before her eyes widened. “Wait! Hang on, get your things on board, I’ve got something for all of you after that though!” She shooed them out of the ship, as they all walked over to grab their bags. 

“So, Krillin. You called Launch, right? Marron has a babysitter?” Eighteen asked, as the monk nodded. 

“Yeah! She was in her- uh- ‘good mood’ too, so obviously she said yes. Marron will be fine!” 

Seventeen sighed, slinging a duffle bag over his shoulder. “Hopefully this doesn’t take too long. I’ve got things to do.” 

Krillin smirked, sidling up to his brother-in-law. “Oh? Family things?” 

“Please don’t tell me this whole trip is going to be you and Eighteen pestering me about my kids.” The dark-haired android groaned, shaking his head. 

Eighteen shrugged. “Better that than listening to Gohan gush about Pan for what will feel like eternity.” She said dryly, as the half-Saiyan’s brow furrowed. 

“I don’t ‘gush’.” He said, defiantly. The looks he managed to get from the others said different. Gohan blinked. “...Do I?” Krillin shrugged sheepishly in response. 

“Hey! Chatterboxes! Let’s keep it moving!” Vegeta barked, catching all of their attention. He marched back to the ship, as the others followed suit. They made their way back to the ship, before several capsules were tossed at them, exploding in the air to reveal the same spandex battle uniforms that Vegeta was used to wearing, all marked with the Capsule Corp logo. Eighteen and Seventeen looked at the uniforms with slight distaste, but managed to keep their opinions to themselves for the time being. 

“Oh, man! I haven’t worn one of these since Cell!” Gohan exclaimed, tossing the battle suit around in his hands. Krillin looked at his, chuckling. 

“Hey, Bulma. Do you think this one is explosion-proof? Or at least has some extra armor around the chest? Don’t want any Namek repeats.” He joked, Gohan and Bulma both giving him a worried look, before the teal-haired woman sighed, shrugging. 

“You’ll be fine, Krillin. You’ve got your big strong wife to protect you now.” She said with a smile. “But, I think that’s everything! You all should be ready to go, but- hang on, Vegeta, can I talk to you alone for a second?” She beckoned him out, as the Saiyan reluctantly followed behind. Bulma waited until they were out and a good few feet away from the ship, far enough so that most normal people wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. “So… Vegeta, I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends, but…” She leaned down slightly, kissing him. 

Vegeta was caught off guard for the moment, as the kiss broke. He stared at his wife, wide-eyed. “...What was that for?” He asked, gruffly. 

“Stay alive. Plus, just some incentive so you don’t end up picking up some alien girl while I’m stuck back here.” She said with a smirk. Vegeta chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I’ll be fine, Bulma. You know you’re my one and only mate. Besides, stay safe as well. I’ll kill those bumbling idiots if I find out they let you get hurt.” 

Bulma giggled, rolling her eyes. “You truly are a romantic, Vegeta.” She waved him off. “I love you. Now, go save Goku and kick some alien butt!” Vegeta nodded, before jogging back to the ship, hopping inside. He found that the others were staring at him, with various shades of smug across their faces, already changed into their battle suits. His cheeks went red slightly. While they had gone far enough that most humans couldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, individuals with enhanced senses was another thing entirely. He scowled, marching up to the control panel of the ship. 

“Not a word, you idiots.” He snarled, as Gohan went to load up the rest of the luggage, before the five of them all gathered around, preparing for the journey ahead. 

“Let’s make this quick. Wouldn’t want to keep your ‘one and only mate’ waiting.” Seventeen sneered, as Vegeta grumbled to himself, activating the ignition on the ship, as it slowly began to rise into the air. The others stared in awe, before it began picking up speed, heading out of Earth’s atmosphere. 

“And away we go!” Krillin hollered, jumping. “Oh, man, I really hope this goes better than my last trip to space.” Eighteen wrapped an arm around him, instinctively. 

“Nothing bad will happen, Krillin.” She said, calmly. 

“Let’s not tempt fate, Eighteen.” Gohan responded, eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the control panel. 

“Something bad may happen if you all keep blabbering around me like a flock of gulls!” Vegeta yelled, as Krillin winced, before chuckling. 

“And so it begins…” He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heights are always weird in DB, but I stand by Vegeta being shorter than Bulma, because it's adorable.
> 
> Also, I don't know if they ever elaborated if Yamcha kept playing professional baseball? I chose to keep him playing baseball, since that's better than 'weird hobo with cat'.
> 
> I meant to give Piccolo more lines, but just hadn't gotten to it. I promise he'll actually have a chance to talk in future chapters.


	7. Interludes Turles & Interlude Krillin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turles hears about his loss of subordinates. || Krillin recalls some rough memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, these are both 'mini-chapters', but I feel like it'd be a bit of a rip-off to just give you them separately, so here's 'Interlude: Turles' and 'Interlude: Krillin'. They take place about the same point in the timeline anyways.
> 
> I liked the idea of 'interludes' for little character drabbles that weren't incredibly important to be part of a normal chapter, but still had good bits of character growth.

“Captain Turles!” A dark-haired humanoid saluted before him. Hair tied into a long ponytail, dressed in older Frieza Force attire. He stood before his Captain, who found himself back in the familiar captain’s chair of his ship, lounging idly with his eyes closed. Turles slowly opened one eye, as the dark iris shot over to make eye contact with his subordinate.

“Yes, Daiz?” He asked, calmly. He had been in the midst of what he assumed was a well-deserved break. After all, having to deal with those other, uncouth Saiyans had been such a hassle. Growling and snarling at each other like a pack of wild dogs. He grimaced. Disgusting. He looked over at his subordinate, who had been patiently waiting. That was what he liked about Daiz. He could read when Turles was in thought, and once the space pirate was actually ready to be addressed, the humanoid began speaking, still in salute. 

“I have unfortunate news, captain. Rasin and Lakasei were killed in battle. Or, less so battle, and more during basic scouting. Apparently the Frieza Force files were correct. There is a powerful Saiyan residing on Planet Vampa.” 

Turles’ mouth was tugged into a scowl, as he turned his back to Daiz, staring out the large, ovular window to his ship into the vast expanse of space before him. He ran a hand through his wild mane of hair, sighing. “Okay. Now give me some good news.” 

Turles heard the faint chuckle of his compatriot behind him. “Well, sir, we’re slated to meet with Slug and the others soon. Slug’s personal meeting with the Commander went well, and we’re primed to use his Dark-Star Dragon Balls very soon. We’ll be meeting on the remote planet Gr’az, I believe.” 

Turles exhaled slightly. “Very well. You’re dismissed.” He waved his hand, before his eyes narrowed slightly. “_Yes_, Daiz?” 

“If I may ask, captain. What are you going to wish for?” There was a bit of a pause. “Sorry, rumor among the troops is that each of the commanding heads is allowed one wish, and then the final wish will benefit us all. I was wondering if you…” 

“Daiz, Daiz, Daiz. You are my most trusted warrior.” Turles laughed. “Once I had single-handedly wiped out your entire planet, I took you under my wing, and I’d like to believe we became close and fast friends.” He looked down at his hands, before running one over one his his scarred arms with a snarl, the burned flesh uneven and callus under his touch. He had never gotten used to the feeling. He should have long ago, and yet it still managed to irk him. 

Daiz seemed confused. “I… I know all of this, captain. Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because then my wish should be obvious.” Turles snapped. “Now, before you leave. Do we have time to detour to where Rasin and Lakasei were killed?” 

“...Vampa is fairly remote, but I can certainly chart out a time-efficient course.” 

The space pirate chuckled. “Good man. Now, run along.” There was a pause, before Turles gestured his subordinate back. “Wait, wait. One more thing.” 

There was the slightest hint of an indignant huff as Daiz turned around, bowing slightly. “...Yes sir?” 

“The God-Fruit. From that black market dealer.” 

“I still doubt it’s authenticity. Sure, it lines up with legend about _Kaioshin_ and their creation, but being able to find one- let alone three- seems like a hoax. Still, they’re being tested at the moment. But I don’t think-” 

“I don’t pay you to think, Daiz.” 

“You don’t pay me at all, Turles.” There was a tense beat. “Apologies. You don’t pay me at all, _Captain_. We simply split spoils and keep whatever we find.” 

The Saiyan laughed dryly. “True enough. Alright, you’re dismissed. I need to think of a way to torture the bastard that killed my men.” With that, Daiz saluted once more, and marched out of the Captain’s quarters, leaving Turles to his own thoughts and devices. He flexed his wrist, scowling. “What a hassle… I suppose I’ll need to give them a proper funeral as well. Being a Captain really is taxing…” 

~~ 

_“All of you, get the hell out of here! You guys will just get in the way! Do you all want to die here?” Goku barked, turning towards the battered warriors behind him. They had been so close to victory, thinking that the Spirit Bomb had actually killed Frieza. Of course, they were wrong, and now Piccolo was incapacitated, and everyone else was practically drained._

_“G-Goku…” Krillin stammered. He didn’t want to leave his friend alone here. They were going to all make it off this planet together, fix up Piccolo, and then work hard to make sure that things never went this badly again. Goku was always there for him, for once he just wanted to return the favor. Fight alongside his best friend for a little bit longer if it ensured everyone’s safety._

_Frieza let out a dry chuckle. “Do you think you’re excused?” The tyrant sneered, red eyes glaring down at the Earthlings. “I’m not letting a single one of you leave this place alive!” He pointed a finger, a practically invisible bolt of energy shooting it’s way towards Krillin. He was lifted off the ground. His heart started beating faster, a heat began to build up in his chest. His flailed his arms, panicking as the others watched in shock. The wide eyes of Gohan, filled with panic. He stammered, before Frieza flicked his hand upwards, sending him hurtling into the air. He heard Goku scream._

_“No! Krillin!”_

_The heat in his chest was building. It had felt like a bad stomach ache at first, but now it burned. Now it felt like the worst kind of pain imaginable. At least, that’s what he thought for the time being. He didn’t know what was happening. He had been scared of Frieza this entire trip, but now he was terrified. Mortified. He struggled, hoping that he could break free- do something to stop… whatever it was Frieza was planning on doing. He didn’t want to die on a now barren planet. He didn’t want his last experiences to be so far away from his friends._

_“Mister Krillin!” He heard Gohan’s tiny voice wail._

_“Stop it, Frieza!” Goku roared, as Krillin flailed helplessly in the air, suspended like a puppet on a string._

_The heat continued pushing, and pushing. He felt like he was on fire. He felt his body start to stretch, things beginning to tense and snap before-_

“Goku!” He screamed, voice hoarse, suddenly sitting up. He and Eighteen had called dibs on one of the bigger sleeping quarters on the spaceship. Nobody had objected, since they were the only couple, but Seventeen had given him a vague look. He looked around the practically pitch black room, before his eyes settled on a wave of blonde hair, and a pair of bright, practically glowing blue eyes. Her face was almost unreadable, but only the slightest twinge of a frown and the quirk of her brow was enough for him to interpret that she was worried. He just realized Eighteen’s hand was on his shoulder, gripping him tightly, as if trying to ground him into reality. He reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead with one hand, before lightly brushing off Eighteen’s hand with another. He covered his face in his hands, groaning softly. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

“For what?” She asked, quietly. 

“Well, for one, I think I just screamed Goku’s name while in bed, so…” He forced a smile, chuckling despite himself. Eighteen’s mouth flattened into bemused line as she tried to hold back a smirk of her own, which wasn’t hard to do once she brought them back to the issue at hand. 

“Are you okay?” Eighteen asked. 

“Still breathing, so I’d say so.” 

“Krillin.” Her eyes narrowed. She had a very weird way of saying that she wanted to talk about things. Which was usually her glaring at him until he fessed up. 

“It was Namek.” He finally relinquished. “I haven’t thought about Namek like that in… a while, but being on this ship. Being back in the void of space again… I don’t know. It triggered something, or whatever.” 

Eighteen seemed more curious. He didn’t blame her. Talk of Namek was rare. That saga in their lives was something that they left back to vague references and the occasional knowing glance. After all, it was after their pyrrhic victory against the Saiyans, and was probably one of their worst outings as far as success goes. All of their victories on that deceptively beautiful planet were either due to luck, Goku, or a well-timed assist. The most he mentioned to her was that it was the planet Piccolo was from, and that Frieza had killed him there. Nothing more, nothing less. It just made things awkward. To be perfectly honest, it was a bit of a game to see each individual's reaction to when someone would mention that little excursion openly. Gohan’s eyes would gloss over for a moment. Piccolo’s gaze would avert. Even Goku, with his boundless optimism, would briefly get this pained expression on his face. Namek was weirdly unapproachable in that sense. They could share a few rough, awkward chuckles about Cell (although preferably not around Gohan), and there were definietely a few morbid jokes about Buu, considering how ridiculous the situation had been in hindsight. But Namek had just been bad all the way through. The only highlight to Namek was the Ginyu Force, and talking about their fights with them got dark really quick. 

Sure, he had told ‘stories’ about Namek to Marron, but they were sensationalized tales of how he, ‘Uncle Goku’, ‘Mister Piccolo’ and the other traveled to alien worlds and beat up bad guy aliens who did silly dances. Everybody was a winner and a hero, nobody died, and the language was kept to a hearty PG at the most. He may have even ripped the idea of a ‘Super Krillin’ from a few recounts of the events that had happened after his… accident. 

“We thought we won. Turns out all Goku’s Spirit Bomb did was scratch Frieza. Then, he shot Piccolo. Almost killed him.” His chest heaved slightly. “Then, he toyed with me. Threw me up in the air like a ball and then…” He held out his hand, fingers exploding outwards. “Popped me like a balloon.” He chuckled softly. “It kinda sucked.” 

“Frieza won’t be there to hurt you.” His wife said, confidently. “And if he is, we’ll beat him.” A slight smile. He felt a good warmth in his chest. Probably ‘hope’ or something like that. Or, he was hungry. 

Krillin had a bad feeling that he’d see Frieza again. Goku’s relationship with the tyrant had become… weirdly benign over time. Not like with Piccolo or Vegeta, where he actively tried to befriend them, but he seemed to be more complacent in regards to letting Frieza do his own thing. They definitely needed to talk about that, but he knew Vegeta had already done his fair share of chewing Goku out, so the last thing he needed was to sound like a broken record. 

“I’m going to stretch my legs a bit. Maybe get a snack. Better I get to them before the Saiyans do, you know?” He crawled out of one of the semi-circular beds, feet hitting the cold floor. He suddenly found Eighteen behind him. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“Eighteen, it’s literally--” 

Her eyes narrowed. Krillin chuckled, opening up the doors to their chambers. “Okay, okay. Fine.” 

They stepped out of the quarters to see Gohan sitting in the middle of the main deck, hair slicked with sweat, meditating. His eyes opened up slowly, tinged with red and slightly glassy. Krillin gave him a knowing look. 

“...Couldn’t sleep?” Krillin asked. 

The half-Saiyan shook his head, before slowly standing up. 

“Well, you know what’ll pass the time? Some image training. Maybe you can show Eighteen the ropes, Gohan.” Krillin pointed back towards the android, who was giving them both a dubious expression. Gohan shrugged, before sitting back down in a lotus position. 

“Image training?” She asked, after a moment's thought. 

“You’ll enjoy it, Eighteen. It’s basically a way of mental training that can actually boost your ki power and mental fortitude. Basically, you can do straight up one-on-one fights, or you could try and work out whatever hypothetical situations you can imagine.” Krillin explained, before looking over at Gohan. 

“You’ll be able to pick it up, no problem. Besides, it’ll probably be the best way to spend time. Space travel can get a bit boring.” He added. Eighteen shrugged, before sitting across from the demi-Saiyan, closing her eyes. Krillin smiled, before heading over to the refrigerator and shelves full of capsules. When he turned around, he already found the two of them in the midst of mental battle, Eighteen’s brow quivering in concentration. He chuckled. 

“Maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all.” He chuckled, tossing one of the food capsules in his hand, before sitting adjacent to the other two. “I call next fight, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Namek, while one of my favorite sagas, definietely was the one where an appropriate tagline would be 'The Z-Fighters Learn That Space Sucks'. Not like the other sagas didn't go horribly wrong, but at least Buu was funny.
> 
> Nobody probably thinks fondly of Namek, is what I'm saying.
> 
> I described Turles' hair as a mane, which- while I'll definietely get to more detail on his appearance later, I didn't want to reimagine him having normal 'Goku' hair. So, my dumb brain did the next thing, which was imagine him with hair more akin to Super Saiyan 4 Goku. Because it's not like SSJ4 Goku is using it right now, amirite?


	8. Detour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team crashes on a strange planet. They learn about potentially more Saiyan survivors.

While the ship had been reportedly on ‘autopilot’, apparently Bulma didn’t have a fully defined intergalactic map of the solar system. And, eventually, the intrepid warriors found themselves in a messy pile as the ship crash-landed on the surface of an unidentified planet. They all flailed around for a moment, before Vegeta flung the other four off of him, scowling. Gohan bounced against the floor of the ship, rubbing his head. This definitely wasn’t how the mission was supposed to go.

“Is everyone okay?” He heard Krillin call out, watching as the stout monk found his footing. 

“I’ve taken a hit from Jiren. This is nothing.” He heard Seventeen’s deadpan voice retort, the slightest hint of pride audible. Gohan could practically hear the smirk on his face. 

“Seventeen, if you brag about fighting Jiren one more time-” Eighteen muttered, pulling her brother back up to his feet, before the ship rocked again, sending the twins flailing and falling over once again. Gohan stood up without much trouble, as did Vegeta. 

“How did none of you imbeciles see the giant planet ahead of us?” Vegeta barked, nobody really having a good answer. After all, Krillin, himself, and Eighteen had been doing mental sparring, and Seventeen didn’t realize anyone had expected him to be the pilot. Vegeta had just assumed Gohan chose to be the leader for this expedition, probably. 

Gohan sighed. “Let’s just fire it back up. This just sets us back a couple minutes, that’s all. We should still be able to make it to the destination point, and be able to accurately follow our target.” He said, before heading towards the control panel. These devices weren’t his strong suit, but it was simple enough to find the ignition. He swiped up, hopefully turning it on, and… 

Was met by one of the worst sounds imaginable. The sound of an engine mixed with an insane amount of gurgling, before it spluttered and halted. His eyes widened, as he turned back to look towards the others, who seemed… about as distraught and confused as him. Krillin, like always, said what everyone else was thinking. 

“It’s not… supposed to do that, right?” 

Seventeen groaned. “I’ll check the outside. I’ve had to fix jeeps before, this can’t be too different.” He headed towards the door, as it slowly lowered, revealing the planet in front of them. It was lush, but the grass seemed to be stained a strange rust color. Of course, they didn’t have too much time to drink in the scenery, as he seemed to be retrained by some sort of invisible rope, and yanked out the front door. 

“Seventeen!” Eighteen yelled, sprinting forwards, frantically looking around as Seventeen- stiff as a board- was being carried off by some unknown force. 

They all heard a vague gagging noise. “Ugh, it’s wet!” The dark-haired Android whined. “It’s like a tongue or something, I can’t move at all!” 

Vegeta marched forwards, rolling his eyes, before holding his hand outwards. “Stop gawking and act.” He grunted, before firing a beam towards the space under Seventeen, watching with amusement as a lizard-like alien appeared out of thin air, collapsed on the ground and dropped the Android, who slowly wobbled to his feet. Accurately enough, he was legitimately being held down by a tongue. He forced his arms away from his torso, shaking saliva off his body before frowning. 

“Guess I owe you one, Vegeta.” 

“Good. Now-” 

Krillin lunged forwards. “Seventeen, behind you!” He pitched an energy blast towards Seventeen’s direction, as it curved around the android and struck another lizard-esque alien. Of course, that set a chain reaction, as a small mob of these aliens suddenly seemed to appear out of nowhere. Bulbous eyes, wide mouths, and spindly bodies, they all suddenly shot their tongues out in conjunction, gripping on to various parts of the fighters. One wrapped onto Gohan’s leg, and slammed him onto the ground with ease. It was, as Seventeen described, wet. Slick, and it made his leg feel numb. The feeling seemed to slowly increase, as he looked around to see the others slowly being yanked out of the ship and into the fields. He watched as Vegeta struggled, as the air around them began to ripple. His hair flickered, the dark wisps of turning a faint green as they began to fill with pigment, before bursting into a brilliant gold as he burst from the tongues grasp, jumping backwards. 

The other lizard aliens seemed confused, as the one who Vegeta escaped from grabbed it’s tongue in pain. Gohan and the others still found themselves being dragged, as Gohan decided to follow Vegeta’s lead. He closed his eyes, the power of the Super Saiyan welling up inside him. He flung his arms outwards, bursting from the enemy’s grasp, before shooting backwards next to Vegeta. Krillin was next, his energy flaring as he shot into the air. The twins struggled a bit, but just through pure tenacity were able to break free. 

The five of them stood back-to-back in a circle formation, looking around as more and more lizard creatures began to appear. Gohan, and he assumed the others, came to the conclusion that they were camouflaged. 

“Well, I suppose we could cook these bastards up if we run out of food rations.” Vegeta chuckled. 

“Kami, that’s gross.” Eighteen retorted. Seventeen snorted. 

“In some places, frog is a delicacy.” He added. 

“I’d call these more salamanders than frogs.” Gohan mumbled. “Although it’s hard to tell.” 

“I don’t care!” Krillin yelled. “These guys freak me out!” 

They were surrounded by warriors, the five fighters getting ready for a fight, before a particularly large one hopped to the front of the mob. Gohan assumed it was the leader, considering just how big he was in comparison to the rest. It gurgled, before opening its mouth, and speaking in a language none of them could understand. 

There was a beat of silence, before Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Hang on. I can handle this.” He stepped forwards, before folding his arms. 

“Speak common tongue, prick!” The prince yelled. The large, lizard alien wobbled, as if taken off guard, before bowing slightly. 

“I’m very sor-ribbit… but we were searching for a dark haired individual, and well, at least three of you fit that description. Ribbit. Although, some sources say it was a woman, so I guess only one of you fit…” 

Seventeen scowled. “You better be talking about one of the spiky-haired ones, or I swear-” 

“Anyways, I’m King Bundt. Welcome to Planet Ka’Ce. If you all are truly innocent, then come with us peacefully. But if we find out you’r-ibbit in cahoots with that dark-haired woman, then we’ll subject you to trial by flambe!” The large alien threw his stubby arms in the air, as the others cheered. Vegeta scowled. 

“We don’t know any dark-haired women out here. We just crashed, and needed to fix our ship.” 

The king raised a moist brow. “How did you crash into a planet? Were you attacked?” 

Krillin jumped in, waving his arms. “Yes! That’s it! That’s a reasonable reason for us to be stranded here, right? Also, do you think you can help us fix it?” 

There was a pause, before the giant king nodded, hopping in the opposite direction. “Follow me. You’re trapped in the Cocog, basically. It’ll take a real steady Ka’Cenian hand to get you out of that one. Ribbit.” He turned around, before starting to hop away. 

“He’s getting really lazy with the ‘ribbit’ thing. Either do it or don’t…” Eighteen muttered, as the group stepped forwards, before stopping almost immediately as the ground seemed to split out from under them, sending them falling downwards. They all caught themselves in midair, as the rest of the aliens happily landed on a moist platform under them, which seemed to lead to a series of underground tunnels. The group chose to remain floating, following after the king quietly as he explained their situation. 

“A dark-haired, feminine individual has been seen killing and slaughtering our citizens, and stealing their resources. This is bad for a number of reasons, but mainly because the Jamboree is coming soon, and I fear we won’t have enough citizens! We were so close to beating the record last year!” 

“I’m just going to cut to the chase,” Seventeen butted in. “You want us to help catch her, right?” 

“You’re right, little miss! Ribbit. If you can catch her and subdue her, we can finally continue on with our fun! And we can get you out of that bog. It’ll be gr-ribbit-eat!” The group grimaced slightly at that, before continuing forwards. In concept, the task was easy. After all, all they’d need to do was-- 

Their train of thought was cut short with a blur shooting past the king, yanking the large alien to the ground before pinning it, a knife pointed at his large, disgusting throat. A cloaked figure stood before them, the only defining facial features they could make out was the bottom of their chin, which seemed feminine enough, and the faint glimpse of a tail swishing back and forth. The assailant opened her mouth, barking something in, again, a language that most of them couldn’t understand. Her voice was commanding, but seemed to have a bit of a tremor. Vegeta frowned. 

“She’s speaking her native tongue. Saiyans haven’t spoken like that since… well, we stopped once the planet was destroyed.” Vegeta explained, before yelling back. Gohan winced. It was violent, and he wasn’t sure if that was the nature of the language or their natural inflection. The two of them yelled for a moment, before her eyes scanned over the group, landing on Gohan for an uncomfortable amount of time. She mumbled something- a name, based on her tone, before shaking her head, pointing at him. 

“_Kakarotto?_” She asked, simply. Gohan’s eyes narrowed. 

“How do you know that name?” Gohan retorted. The cloaked woman grimaced, before speaking to a common language they could understand. 

“Answer me first, asshole.” She snarled, before dashing towards Gohan. The group sprang into action, surrounding her. The saiyan woman reacted fast, almost teleporting out of their circle and finding her way behind Vegeta. A quick strike to the neck, and the Prince’s confused expression turned blank as he stumbled forwards slightly. Not in pain, but seemingly in some sort of daze. “Pressure points…?” Gohan questioned, openly, before he heard a worried yell from Krillin, as he looked to see the two androids flying at her from different directions. She smirked, before vanishing from sight, as the two androids collided, falling to the ground. 

“Seventeen...!” The blonde cyborg groaned. 

“We’re usually more coordinated…” Was his dizzy response. “You’ve got a hell of a hook though, sis…” 

“Okay, okay. So fighting all of you at once is an issue. Fine.” She scowled, repearring off to the side and effortlessly lifting up the large, regal alien with one hand. “Still, this fat bastard should be enough leverage to get some decent cash. Alley-oop!” She flung the king into the air, as the other watched as he sailed out of the underground kingdom, and seemed to harmlessly hit the edge. He groaned, before stopping his movement entirely. 

She began to fly off further into the depths of the kingdom, presumably trying to lose them. “After her!” Gohan yelled, pointing as the others shot out through the winding tunnels. 

‘As dumb as their king was, they did have some pretty good architecture’. Gohan thought, slowing down his chase for a few seconds, before looking up to see that Krillin had already began cornering the female Saiyan. He stanced up, afterimages circling the woman before taunting her with several rude gestures. 

“Pick a Krillin! Any Krillin! C’mon!” 

The woman scowled, diving for one of the afterimages, shocked as it faded into nothingness. She her eyes widened as the real Krillin blasted forwards, ramming into her. Krillin reached around and grabbed the woman’s tail, causing her to howl in pain. She dropped to one knee, shaking. “Oh… okay, okay. I give. You got me.” She said, calmly. Krillin smiled. 

“See guys? Now, back when I fought Goku, this actually didn’t work because he trained up his tai-” He was cut off with a kick to the gut, before the female Saiyan rolled backwards, grabbing onto the monk and catapulting him away. She got up to her feet, cracking her knuckles. 

“And they say you get weaker with age. Hah. I’ve aged like fine wine.” The cloaked Saiyan chuckled, as Gohan rushed over. She tensed up, he felt her eyes on his face, before she threw another chop to the neck. Probably attempting to do to him what she did to Vegeta. He dived out of the way, before throwing a punch to her gut, the resulting strike creating a small shockwave. She stumbled, before her teeth grit tighter, sending a barrage of punches towards him. 

“Your face pisses me off!” She yelled, as each punch connected, but did less and less with Gohan’s steadily rising ki. Knuckles cracked against his enhanced body, before it was clear she was starting to wear herself out. He raised an arm, planting it on her shoulder, before slamming her and pinning her against one of the adjacent buildings with ease. She kept swinging, Gohan starting to see sweat bead down her face. “Tailless freak! I swear, I’ll kill you!” 

“It’s over.” He said, calmly. Her eyes widened, not expecting that reaction. 

“The hell do you mean?” She scoffed. “Fine. If you’re gonna kill me, kill me.” She said, before they both heard a roar come from the outskirts of the city, and Gohan felt a violent spike in energy. Obviously her little trick didn’t hold Vegeta for too long, whatever it was. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” Gohan said calmly. He forgot. Saiyans and their ‘pride’. 

She seemed shocked. “Why? I’ve killed tons of these lizard bastards, attacked your little merry band of idiots, and was planning on ransoming their king. And that’s just the stuff I’ve done in the past hour. What? Do you think that you’re better than me?” 

“He is.” Vegeta snarled, finally catching up alongside the two androids. “He’s just too much of a coward to finish the job.” 

“Not like it matters... My scouter was picking up everything. Now my team be able to hunt you down, and kill you.” She sneered. “What do you think about that, Kakarot?” 

Gohan frowned. “Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.” 

“Kakarot is his father.” Vegeta clarified. A shift of expression from under the cloak, as her confident sneer turned into a contemplative frown. 

“Father? Yeesh. I really am getting old…” She mumbled, before focusing her attention back on the group. “Still! I’d rather die than talk.” 

“We’ll see about that. You’re coming with us.” Gohan stated. His eerie calm still seemed to stun her. 

Before Gohan could speak further, Vegeta stepped forwards, and effortlessly knocked her out with one punch. “You stole the win from me. I’m owed this.” He said, definitely. “Now carry her back to the ship.” Gohan frowned, before shrugging. No use arguing with Vegeta. Eventually, the rotund ruler found his way back to the group, ready to halt their expedition a little bit more. 

“Huzzah! The killer has been… killed? Stopped? Oh, you just caught her? Who cares, it’s over! We will express our gratitude by pulling out your ship!” He cheered, apparently finding his way back down without their help, before waiting a beat. “Uh, ribbit.” 

Gohan rolled his eyes, hoisting the Saiyan woman over his shoulder with a sigh. “That was pretty harsh, Vegeta.” 

“And you and the others were embarrassing yourselves. I simply waited and struck when the time was right.” He replied, haughtily. “I assume you have questions for her?” 

Gohan nodded. “She knows my dad, somehow. She said ‘Kakarot’. I could gather that much.” He replied, as the Prince frowned slightly. 

“I have questions as well. The idea of more Saiyans… irritates me. Especially if they had been hiding like cowards this whole time. You, King.” He pointed a finger at the blubbery regent. “We’re taking the woman with us.” 

The king frowned. “I was hoping torture by flambe, but this is obviously personal or something. Go ahead.” He began marching forwards, leading them out of the kingdom. They reached solid ground, as several of the Ka’Cenians had used their tongues to yank out the ship with minimal damage. Gohan bowed gently towards the king, with Krillin following suit. 

Seventeen and Eighteen seemed less grateful. “All we had to do was pull?” The blonde sneered. 

“Thank you. We wish your people the best.” Gohan said, calmly, before turning around and flying into the ship along with the others. Seventeen gave the aliens a lazy wave, before waiting until the others were inside and closed the main door. Vegeta headed over to the control panel, starting up the ship, the others feeling a slight jolt as it became airborne, and then shot back up into space. 

Gohan dropped the Saiyan woman into a chair, as her hood fell off. The spiked, black hair indicative of the Saiyan race, although it was becoming laced with wisps of grey, was styled short with choppy bangs. The aging process seemed to be freshly starting, or at least working slowly, as only slight wrinkles laced her features. A scouter was attached to the right side of her face. Thin, narrow eyes caught Gohan’s attention, watching with slight curiosity as they opened up, and was faced with a unique trait of violet irises instead of the usual pitch black. 

Gohan’s hands trembled. How did she know his father? The fact that she was a surviving Saiyan brought forth a lot of questions. How many more…? Her and Broly made two, but as far as they knew, there could be a whole new Planet Vegeta waiting for them. 

Vegeta walked next to Gohan, folding his arms. “Well, it’s time for us to get some answers.” He looked over to the demi-Saiyan, his expression neutral. “Perhaps she might even know something about our current goal.” 

Gohan nodded, unclenching his fists. “Right. Let’s do this, Vegeta.” 

Vegeta smacked her across the face. She quickly came to her senses. 

“What the hell? Where am I?” Was her first reaction. Vegeta scoffed. 

“You’re our prisoner.” He reached and gripped the scouter, ripping it off. “There, now you can talk freely.” He tossed it over his shoulder, Eighteen effortlessly catching it and tossing it to the side of one of the ships bedrooms. She rolled her eyes. 

“As if I’d talk to some scene kids, a muscled up baby, and two tailless Saiyan rejects.” Gohan didn’t take much offense to it. He knew his status and everything. Vegeta, however, didn’t take that remark in stride. 

Vegeta narrowed his eyes. “I’d watch your tone. I am Prince Vegeta. Fourth to my name. I let go of my tail years ago. It was nothing more than a disgusting hinderance.” She seemed shocked, 

“...Prince Vegeta? No way…” She positioned herself into something… bow adjacent. “I thought you had died with the rest of our race.” 

“And I thought you and the rest were meant to be dust in the cosmic winds. Are there more of you out there? You mentioned a team.” 

She frowned. “...I can not tell you that, prince. My allegiance is with someone else. While I do respect your status, you are no longer _my_ prince. The Saiyan Empire has been long dead.” 

“Then who are you?” Gohan asked, suddenly. “How do you know my father?” 

“...Fine. I suppose, since I’m in the presence of the prince, I can allow you that much. I am Celipa. Mid-class Warrior. I served in one of the Alpha Teams of the Vegeta Forces.” She said her title with pride, Gohan noticed, despite also having denounced the throne but a few moments earlier. Still, that didn’t answer the question about his father. Vegeta whistled slowly, uttering a low chuckle. 

“The Vegeta Forces are difficult to get into. Only the best are allowed to fight directly under my father’s command.” He rubbed his neck, frowning slightly. “That does add some more context onto that little… stunt you pulled on me. Very good.” 

She nodded, slowly. “Thank you. But, to continue, I served alongside Bardock.” She looked at Gohan. “Your grandfather.” 

“My grandfather? Is he alive too?” Gohan asked, hopefully. He wasn’t sure why- perhaps there was the fact that his only Saiyan family outside of his father was Raditz. And Radtiz, in the short time they had… gotten to know each other, was very much ‘the worst’. 

She seemed legitimately saddened by the question, her gaze averted for the moment. “...Sorry.” 

There was a bit of an awkward silence, before Gohan sighed. “It’s okay. I guess that’s everything you’re willing to tell us, huh? Nothing about your boss or…” 

Celipa shook her head. Vegeta scowled. “Useless woman. Whatever. We’ll just let her starve until she speaks. Gohan, get to the helm. I’m going to go train.” He rolled his eyes, before turning away. Gohan nodded, before giving Celipa another look. Almost pleading. He wanted to know more. More about what they were going to be up against, but even still they didn’t even know if she was part of the ones who used the rings or not. 

He bowed, slightly. “I’ll listen, if you choose to talk.” He said calmly, before heading towards to the control panel of the ship. 

No more detours. They had wasted precious time with their little scuffle. Now, they had to follow that signal, and end this once and for all. "Don't worry, Dad. I'm coming for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can retcon Bardock's team as much as you want, Toei/Toriyama- that just means I can do whatever I want with them! Via fun things like flashback chapters!
> 
> Just for... clarification, since AO3 is weird with mixing dub names, sub names, and names that are... weird. (Brolly? Seriously?), I might as well list off their names now so that it can be clear.
> 
> So: Celipa, Toma, Toteppo, and Panbukin. I was debating between Borgos and Toteppo, so I flipped a coin and Toteppo won.
> 
> Also, apparently the Vegeta Forces were the name of the entire Saiyan army? Which I thought was kind of stupid, so I just made it a subsection of the army.


End file.
